The Young Captain and the Restless Doctor
by Big-Babidi
Summary: Unohana Retsu always wore a mask, as he would soon find out.


Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach as it belongs to Kubo Tite. Not making any money here.

I gotta thank both **Epsilon** and **Kayeich** from The Fanfiction Forum. The former for making the competition that spawned this (writing a short fic using the first sentence) and the latter for supplying the title. Thanks guys.

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The Young Captain and the Restless Doctor

By bigbabidi

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"We all wear our masks."

"What do you mean?"

Startled, Unohana Retsu did her best to remain calm. She had no intention of saying that aloud, especially not in front of another captain. Looking down at the paperwork ruining her desk, she wasn't sure how to answer his question.

He nearly jumped as she locked eyes with his and sighed. In all his years of knowing Unohana (which, honestly speaking, paled in comparison to others), he'd never seen her like this.

She looked _so tired_.

Her exhaustion didn't come from the duties of fourth division captain. On the contrary, if her job consisted of healing wounded patients alongside a stack of paperwork with a few meetings on the side, Unohana Retsu could work efficiently with her hands tied.

What drained her... what truly sucked away Retsu's strength came from her unchanging behavior everyone took for granted. Unlike other captains, she had a few more tasks not listed in the job description.

Mother figure. Shrink. Instructor. Babysitter. Constant voice of reason. Infinite patience.

And _that_ was on a good day.

Day in and day out, Unohana Retsu did what she could. A gifted student with a natural talent in the healing arts since her first and only year in the academy, she strived to do her best in helping others, never once thinking of herself.

She never dreamed of becoming captain, but took the position happily and gracefully, hoping she was truly qualified.

She never asked to become the unofficial mother to nearly every shinigami in the entirety of Seireitei. To become the ideal shinigami that nearly every female academy student and shinigami alike strived to emulate.

She never imagined it would last so long. After centuries of displaying nothing but her worshipped behavior, she found it increasingly difficult to maintain.

Even so, her unofficial position wasn't complete agony either. Some of her moments as mother hen were priceless.

Such as her contributions in helping Kuchiki Byakuya and Rukia get along, and later when she convinced Byakuya not to kill Kurosaki Ichigo for dating his sister. When she persuaded Madarame Ikkaku to take up the mantle of ninth division captain. Or her personal favorite, when she supplied Kurostuchi Nemu the encouraging push needed to confess her feelings to the Quincy boy, eventually leading to their marriage.

Memories like those made everything worth it.

Or so she desperately wanted to believe.

However, that most certainly was not the case. If she looked deep down in the very depths of her soul, she wanted one concept above all others.

Lashing out.

She wanted to belch as loud as possible. To drink alongside her comrades without concern for any consequences. Play a game or two with vice captain Kusajishi or discover if captain Komamura would _really_ give chase if she threw a bone in his line of sight.

She wanted to heal Tousen's vision, so he could watch her tearing him apart. She wanted to hold Ichimaru's balls, then twist and pull, all with a fox-like grin on her face mirroring his own. For Aizen, she found execution by Sokyoku surprisingly fitting.

What didn't kill Kuchiki Rukia _would kill him_.

"Captain Unohana? Are you alright?"

Clearing her thoughts, Unohana smiled. Though weary, it shone just as brightly and beautifully as ever. "We all wear our masks. You and I both."

She stood from her desk and slowly walked towards him, stopping only inches apart. She ignored his confused gaze from her strange behavior, knowing a 'genius' like him would understand soon. "Please do not misunderstand me. I care deeply for everyone here. Seeing their lives improve because of something I did is a wonderful feeling. However, after spending nearly a millennium and rarely able to drop my guard, I suppose it can... take its toll on a person."

Before he could reply, her right hand went under his left sleeve and began to slowly caress his forearm. Whether it was a motherly touch or something deeper he couldn't say. He _could_ say that he didn't want it to stop.

"You wear a mask as well. The one that keeps others at arms distance after vice captain Hinamori's death. Despite this, the mask also covers a yearning for someone to understand him and care for who he really is."

Seeing his shocked expression, her smile widened, "There is no cause for concern. Rest assured, you have done a convincing job hiding your sadness. I say this with no ego, but I am highly likely the only person who sees this." Her other hand cupped his cheek, causing him to blush immensely.

"So I ask, would you mind if we removed our masks together?"

To his credit, it took him little time to see the double meaning. He was stunned as the implications of her comment smacked him like a Matsumoto-sized boob to the face.

But as her head descended slightly, lips gently connecting with his own, Hitsugaya Toshiro had no objections.


End file.
